Christmas For A Whole Week

Prompt: Imagine that things had gotten so much worse with the economy and with the energy crisis that it was declared by the federal government that everyone must stay home for a week.
Unfortunately, there will be no electricity.
You may pick the season, the weather, and the location of your character, but what do you do with a week of no banking, no grocery stores, no gas stations, no theatres, no public transportation available and a week of staying home
(No school for the kiddies, either. No one is working, remember.)
This is an unpaid “holiday, too,” unfortunately. Remember this is supposed to be a cost-saving implementation.

Christmas for a Whole Week

The morning of December 21, 2012 Conrad Miller drove to work, carefully avoiding cars which were abandoned on the streets. The past month had brought many changes. A nutcase Native American Shaman had declared the long awaited blending had arrived.

Blending had been the newest hype for a couple of years. Now, with the ending of the Mayan Calendar each end of the world preacher wanted to be the one whose theory would come true. The blending version had gained in popularity only for a few months, but it was strong.

Conrad worked for Poseidon Security Corporation in a big building in downtown Seattle. It provided wealthy customers, politicians and foreign dignitaries with personal security services. He pulled into the underground garage and noticed with annoyance that the gate didn’t close behind him. The elevator didn’t work either. The lights in the stairwell were set to emergency, bathing the concrete in an orange glow. Entering his seventh floor office Conrad saw his assistant’s desk unoccupied. He picked up the phone to call her, as he often had to do. The line was dead.

Taking the steps by twos and threes Conrad climbed to the top floor. Outside of the CEO’s office sat that one’s secretary.

She had a scarf wrapped around her head. “Mr. Feller isn’t feeling well. You should go home too, Mr. Miller.”

“Sally, why is the building on emergency electricity?”

Sally shook her head, pulling the scarf tighter.

“Mr. Feller!” Conrad knocked on the door. There was no answer, so he entered without another warning.

Mr. Feller sat with his high back desk chair facing the window. “Conrad, go home. Stay home for a week at least. I’m closing Poseidon down for the week. Sorry, I won’t be able to pay you.” The CEO’s voice was deep and rumbling, as if stones were crushed between his jaws with every word he spoke.

“What is going on?”

Mr. Feller slowly turned his chair to face Conrad. He had grown at least a foot, the skin of his face was of a bright purple and on his forehead the beginning of horns started showing. His mouth gave the appearance to be full with something of an odd shape. Staring, unable to take his eyes from the spectacle, Conrad witnessed as a pair of tusks grew out of the CEO’s mouth.

Mr. Feller licked his lips. “It doesn’t hurt. It goes fast. This is what that Shaman was talking about. None of the other prophecies fits. Sally grew pointy ears on the way to work. I would have sent her home, but she refuses to go outside like this.”

Conrad touched his face and ears. Everything felt normal. “I have to go home.”

The drive to his suburban home went by in a haze. His wife, Kathy, waited for him at the door. Biting her lower lip she searched his face. “The TV said … they said it’s happening. Everybody has to stay home.”

“Open your mouth!” Conrad stuck a finger in his wife’s mouth and let it slide over the smooth surfaces of her teeth. “Do you feel weird at all?” He lifted the bright blond hair over her ears, they were normal. He laughed nervously and asked, “Where are the kids?”

“Mary is in her room and Brett is in the den, playing a video game.”

At that moment the teenage boy called out in frustration, “The power went out!” 

For a moment Conrad wanted to run away. Where to, he had no idea. The whole 2012 thing was supposed to be a hoax. His wife looked up to him, waiting for him to say what to do. His gray gaze met her blue eyes. He saw her fear and that pushed him over the hump. He had to keep her safe. He had to assume control and show it.

“Brett and I will build a fire in the living room fireplace. It will keep us warm. Go get Mary, don’t tell her anything.”

The family assembled in the living room. A roaring fire gave heat. For lunch they cut the turkey, that was supposed to be the Christmas meal, apart and started roasting it piece by piece using the long, cleaned poker. Darkness fell early and by 6 PM the only sources of light were two flashlights and the glow of the fire.

Conrad went to the bedrooms and brought all their blankets back. Grinning wide he dropped them into a big pile on the carpeted floor, “We’re camping here tonight.”

Five-year-old Mary wasn’t used to her dad being this much fun. During the day he had entertained her by telling her funny stories from his work. He had patiently played two rounds of Candy Land with her and then let her raid his sacred stash of imported German licorice. Now Conrad held his little daughter, the spitting image of Kathy, cradled against his stomach.
She looked up to him and asked, “What are we doing, daddy?”

Conrad glanced at the Christmas tree, which stood dark and unlit on a pretty red rug with a train, that wouldn’t run without electricity, around it. “Honey, we’re going to have a whole week of Christmas! Brett, go and get each of us a present!”

Snuggled up and warm the foursome fell asleep on their living room floor. For tonight they didn’t care that the world was changing in ways humanity hadn’t seen since before Old Testament times.

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